


Grasshopper Biscuits

by I_Shouldnt_Be_Here



Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Abandon logic while reading this, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Drama & Romance, Gen, Heavily inspired by nonsense poetry, Quests, Romance, Whimsy, marriages, very weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Shouldnt_Be_Here/pseuds/I_Shouldnt_Be_Here
Summary: An unconventional marriage occurred in the kingdom of Nothingabad. Prince Aman had got a few unconventional consequences to deal with. Quests, a new kingdom and a husband he barely knew were the least of his troubles. Very whimsy/weird, reader be warned.
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So today I came across a very sweet person on Instagram (who is a guest reader here), this chapter is for them! (It's kinda weird but I hope you like it:)  
> Enjoy!

The kingdom of Nothingabad, situated in the valley of Nonexistence, was positively alight with lamps because of the prince’s wedding.

The streets were full of kids giggling about the prince’s marriage (and spreading a few rumours along the way) while enjoying loads of unhealthy street food dished out by the plateful. Everyone needed an excuse to let their hair down and celebrate. A prince’s wedding was the perfect excuse.

_ A few weeks ago… _

“Okay ma, I will marry, but I will invoke the ancient rule of the Kingdom of Nothingabad.” 

“Alright, now  _ which  _ ancient law book did you dig this time?” Queen Sunaina was disgruntled.

“Don’t worry about that. It was an ancient law book, almost falling apart, known as the code of Sammurabi. Some hapless scholar from long back must have left their copy in the library. Some laws in there were pretty gross, regarding women and slaves, but I found a really interesting one. I want a wordplay-battle to decide my spouse.”

“What? This has never been done before!” 

“So what? I’m doing this. It’s the one bit of excitement I am allowed in my boring life.”  _ Prince Aman would later regret speaking of his life as ‘boring’. _

“Okay, you’re the prince. I can’t really go against your wishes.” Sunaina said with a sparkling twinkle in her eyes, which completely belied her otherwise submissive sounding words. She very well could go against Aman, and most of the time she didn’t because she wanted some amusement.

“Alright then. Announce this in the whole kingdom. Not beyond that. I want someone from my kingdom. I don’t want complicated alliances with rulers of the other nations beyond the Whispering-Soul mountains.” 

“And, on second thought, I want to marry a man. Please make sure that the candidates are such.”

…

The lawyers, legislators, magistrates, sub-magistrates, spies, scholars, researchers, academicians, magicians, soothsayers, gossip-smugglers, snitches and tattletales of the small kingdom spent the next couple of days brushing up on ancient laws, to better prepare themselves for this unconventional wedding. All of them had different reasons and motivations for doing so. 

The amount of dust getting kicked about in the ‘law’ and ‘history’ sections of the libraries of Nothingabad were enough to make all the librarians come with running noses and bearing damp greenish-yellow handkerchiefs to Prince Aman’s wedding. The entire lawyer’s office was this close to burning out from sheer exhaustion after lengthy sessions of interpreting the ancient laws.

“Is a wordplay-battle puns or double entendres with cheeky nuns?” One lawyer asked.

“The laws are too vague, we cannot by mistake herald a plague!”

“Are lawyers superstitious? Do you really fear this wedding inauspicious?”

“Personal beliefs to the side! We want to see who’s the prince’s bride!”

“Oh well dear sir, the prince is marrying a  _ him _ not a  _ her _ .”

“Alright that’s absolutely fine, I need the groom to bring good wine.”

“Ah you’re planning on getting drunk, don’t climb (naked!) a tree trunk.”

“Spoilsport you are for sure, cautionary tales are no hurdle for this provocateur.”

“I’d join in the revelry, but I barely have the guts for such daredevilry.”

“Enough, you bunch of intellectual fools! Have you been taught  _ this _ in your rules?”

At the end, by  _ arbitrary consensus _ , it was decided that a wordplay battle could only have puns.

…

Prince Aman was seated in the large sized hall, enough to contain about fifty or so men gathered there, all around Aman’s age, competing for his hand in marriage. The king and queen were absent from the hall because they had other affairs to attend to. 

Aman tore down through each one of them, each one unable to penetrate his mask of sheer boredom. 

“Take away gravity....” One began,

“I’d still  _ fall  _ for you? No, try harder than this.” Aman completed.

“ _ Lettuce taco _ bout the amount of space you have in your heart for me....”

“Nope, as for the space in my heart for you, there is  _ naan.” _ Aman completed with a smug smile.

Aman got increasingly frustrated as the day went on. The puns got dumber and he was at the end of his patience. 

“I swear, if I find another struggling author with a  _ Mr. Write _ pun na, I’m going to strangle him.” He whispered to Rajni, his sister and partner-in-crime.

“Hah, everyone knows science puns are your weakness…” She replied with a snicker.

“I want to kill that guy who made the exothermic reaction joke. My supposed  _ hotness _ would have singed his eyebrows off.” he replied.

“Next candidate!” The usher called out.

Next candidate was a tall, skinny boy with eyes that sparkled with copious amounts of mischief. He had a rakish look to him, bordering on  _ alarming. _ He walked in with nonchalance that was part danger and part laziness.

“Who are you?” The usher sized him up, focusing on his drab, casual clothing, interrupted by a bright pink scarf draped around his neck.

“Doesn’t matter, just came here to see what the fuss is about. I heard the prince wants to marry?” He talked a little too loudly for the usher’s taste.

During this internal, Aman keenly listened to whatever the boy had to say. 

_ Hmm, this is new. He walked in without any preparation? _

“What are you two muttering about?” Aman interrupted, though he knew. All the ushers bowed their heads diffidently.

“Nothing,  _ prince _ Aman. I heard that you’re planning to marry, hmm?” The boy retaliated. All the ushers, ministers, Rajni looked at him with slightly horrified faces. 

“Ooh, spunky are you? Have enough brains left after that thoughtless retort?”

“Oh yes, don’t worry.” He gathered his pink scarf and threw it over his shoulder with a pronounced swagger.

Aman came to know that his name was ‘Kartik’. Aman realised he just could not get a straight answer out of that lanky boy.

“How old are you?”

“Somewhere between a turtle’s childhood and a cockatoo’s teenage.” Aman got a headache calculated the age of a turtle and a cockatoo.

“Where do you stay?”

“Why does that matter, for functional purposes I built myself a cottage near the largest library.” Aman slapped his forehead because all the libraries in Nothingabad were of the exact same size.

“What do you do for a living?”

“I make running shoes for stationery.”

“What are your interests? What music do you listen to?”

“Are those open-ended questions or questionable openings?” Kartik winked. 

Aman bristled at his attempts at talking to him as a  _ questionable opening.  _ But Aman found himself quite engaged in this conversation. Each answer had been a wordplay but not exactly a pun. 

The lawyers seated in the court had immense displeasure written upon their faces, because the laws weren’t being followed properly. The boy continued talking to Aman, eating up into the time left for the other suitors. 

“Oof, talking to you is a riddle wrapped in an enigma, wearing a nightmare’s clothes!”

“Uh, I’ll come to you at night, on a ghodi (mare), if that’s the case… get it?” Kartik shuffled about and twirled his pink scarf in his fingers. Aman let out a smile at Kartik’s bashfulness. He snickered.

“The sheer audacity, for explaining your joke, that too in  _ brackets _ …” He let out a loud belly laugh, which grew louder by the moment and left Kartik more awkward after each second that passed. Aman clutched his belly and wiped off a tear. 

“According to our interpreted laws…” A lawyer interrupted.

“I will marry this man!” Aman interpolated.

“But… Laws?”

“I’m listening to none of that. Pay this man a sum of ninety-nine grasshopper biscuits.” 

Kartik’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe that Aman had chosen him. The faces of the other suitors got longer as Aman’s laugh faded. They shuffled about, planning to disperse from the hall. Kartik just couldn’t handle the sheer amount of visual stimulation attacking his sight from all corners. Shuffling suitors, Aman gearing up for a fight with the head lawyer, and the general rush of people moving back and forth.

His impulse control was gone. Completely.

“I want only ninety-eight grasshopper biscuits!” He announced. The usher took one out from the bag he was about to present to Kartik.

The bag full of ninety-eight grasshopper biscuits was handed over to Kartik discreetly while Aman was engaged in a verbal tussle with the lawyer. The argument went around in circles, without anyone noticing Kartik feeling about in his pockets for a grasshopper biscuit, the official currency of the kingdom of Nothingabad.

Kartik placed two grasshopper biscuits in the bag.

Chaos ensued.

The small, green tokens were jumping about in the hall wildly, bouncing off the throne, one of the usher’s bald heads, off the decorative headpiece of a Huckledee (Killed by the Honourable King Shankar On a Hunt to Catch the Bigger Huckledoo, but wasn’t successful in doing so) (This fact was barely known by a handful of people), off the elbows, knees and jaws of the suitors (They packed quite a punch) and one bopped prince Aman directly on the nose.

“Catch them!” A few servants were about with their brooms, without any definable purpose.

“Bag them!” The royal tailor said.

“Nab them!” The Head lawyer said, her fight with prince Aman completely forgotten.

Everyone ran about in the hall, not wanting to get beaned in the face by a grasshopper biscuit. Kartik ran towards Aman’s direction and caught his hand. 

“Let’s run away from here!” He grabbed Aman’s hands and set off outside. Aman could barely keep up with his long strides.

“I know a place, go this way!” Aman pointed towards the southwest, where a few short but dense trees grew. They ran towards a lush banyan tree, careful not to get beaned this time by the small red figs growing on that large tree in profuse bunches.

Aman caught his breath, leaning his arm on a fat prop root hanging downward. Kartik spun around one, trampling the figs on the ground with his shoes. When he got bored of doing that, he glanced upwards at the thick, leathery, paddle shaped leaves.

“Do you have  _ any  _ impulse control?” Aman asked, referring to the grasshopper biscuits incident.

“Not usually.” He winked at him. Aman  _ tsked. _

“Always wanted to see that happen.” Kartik replied.

Since the ages of old, grasshopper biscuits were susceptible to jumping crazily and dispersing outward chaotically whenever a hundred of them collected together. Usually you could find them scattered about near shops or on roadsides.

The kingdom of Nothingabad had no treasury or misers. Any article of commerce could not be possibly priced beyond ninety-nine grasshopper biscuits. 

“Why did you ask for ninety eight of them then?” 

“Just because.” Kartik smiled, and Aman gazed into his sparkling deep brown eyes.

A few hours passed while they talked under the lush banyan tree.

…

“Shh, stop talking so loud!” Aman laid a finger over Kartik’s lips. They were currently perched on the outside, under the windowsill of a huge hall window. 

“Oh wait, wait, someone’s speaking. They sound pretty panicky.” Aman whispered near Kartik’s ear.

“Both the rulers are gone! In their place is a couple of screeching cats.” A messenger’s voice trembled through the large hall.

Both Kartik’s and Aman’s eyes widened at the same time.

...


	2. More cats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

The hall erupted in chaos, and it took quite a while for the people gathered there to notice either the prince’s or his suitor’s absence. They sneaked in through the huge hall window, unnoticed by everyone gathered there.

“The king and queen are gone! It is a peculiarly peculiar phenomenon!”

“I thought the king and queen to be quiet, don’t you remember they disappeared for a month post the Pride Parade (Riot)?”

“Yes yes, I remember. But this time, I come bearing ominous rhyme.”

“Ominous-vominous, I kid you not, this messenger is making mountains of a naught.”

“How will you explain these cats? Yes please, dearest diplomats?”

“Put them the hell away! Conjuring cats is child’s play!” 

Aman glanced at the cats, both looking strangely similar. 

One of them even had a black patch in a vee-shape of a receding hairline on its forehead. 

Aman interrupted. Kartik was impressed by his ability to compose rhymes in a moment’s notice.

“Tell me, tell me what’s wrong, you’ve only been creating chaos all along.” The messenger opened their mouth, just to shut it like a gaping fish.

“Okay you don’t need to tell me, I know, what with y’all screaming like a banshee.”

“We need a fool-proof plan”, the head lawyer said deadpan.

“A fool-proof plan made by fools? I’ve seen better in play-schools.” Rajni interrupted. Kartik raised his eyebrow, clearly impressed.

“We need to consult the Linefi Oracle, even though her words are incomprehensibly allegorical.” She said. Everyone bowed down a little, cowering under the gaze of her uncovered glass eye.

“We can do that tomorrow, these cats are screaming because they’re hungry and hollow.”

The two cats, one white with a strange golden-yellow ring around its front paw and the other ginger with a receding hairline shaped black patch on its forehead were treated with scary amounts of respect.

…

Rajni was exasperated. She felt like she had been dragged into the whole situation against her own will. People in the hall looked at her left and right, expecting her to run to the Linefi Oracle for consultation immediately. 

Consulting her was _exhausting._ Especially walking through the Pool of Carnissus.

…

She made a few plans, about how to cross the Pool of Carnissus. She had grudgingly taken up that responsibility of consulting the oracle since the age of twelve, fifteen or so years ago.

“Attendant! I need blinders, a blindfold, a megaphone, oh, and some catnip.”

She waited until the attendant came to her bearing all that she asked. The bright orange colour of the megaphone was _this_ close to giving her a permanent headache.

“Princess, I hope you’re okay tomorrow.” The attendant gave her a worried glance, running her eyes over Rajni, to make sure she was _intact,_ almost premonitively.

…

The next morning announced itself almost ominously. She wondered what cats ate. 

She performed her usual morning rituals, for that daily routine was a comfortable anchor. Aman wished her luck and she came to know from an attendant that Kartik was wandering about somewhere.

She exited the gates of the castle and walked southward, until she reached the pool of Carnissus. The Linefi Oracle was situated at its centre, in a small shrine made of black stone.

The Pool of Carnissus and the Shrine was wrapped in early morning light and an unearthly beauty. She walked closer to the pool with slow steps and admired its sickening beauty for a second. Shadows played over the surface of the pool.

Then she was hit by the syrupy whispers of her mind, magnified by the aura of the Pool of Carnissus.

She gazed into her reflection, finding it to be horrendously ugly. Liver spots, big bulbous nose, and the glass eye shone ominously. Malicious, hypnotising voices whispered in her head and magnified her insecurities. She almost lost sight of the seven stone steps leading inside to the shrine. She almost wanted to touch the surface of that grotesque ugliness.

The stone steps were offset at an angle to each other, so it was impossible to walk those steps by wearing a blindfold or even blinders. She couldn’t risk falling into the pool. The blinders and blindfold were in her pockets just for reassurance.

She stared intensely at the first step leading to the shrine. It had a narrow crack on the rough grey stone.

Aha, the Pool of Carnissus had an imperfection. 

This was enough to give her a break from the negative whispers rattling against the insides of her skull relentlessly. 

She whipped out the megaphone and burst into song.

**“I am not ugly!”**

_“Glass eye! Glass eye!”_

_The whisper tested her limits curiously._

**“Useless light trick!”**

_“Glass eye! Glass eye!”_

_The whisper turned frustrated as she set her foot in the second stone._

**“Bother someone else!”**

_“Glass eye! Glass eye!”_

_The whisper was angry, pushing against the inside of her skull._

**“I’ve heard it all before!”**

_“Glass eye! Glass eye!”_

_The whisper was angrier, she dug her feet into the fourth step._

**“I’ve said that to myself many times!”**

_“Glass eye! Glass eye!”_

_The whisper muttered disdainfully._

**“You can’t hurt me anymore!”**

_“Glass eye! Glass eye!”_

_The whisper ebbed, growing resigned._

**“You can’t hurt me anymore.”**

_“Glass eye...glass...eye...”_

_The whisper surrendered, as she placed her foot on the seventh step decisively._

She put her megaphone to the side and wiped the sweat off her brow. Crossing this pool took an enormous toll on her mind every time. It was worse for other people, complacent in their appearances until the Pool showed them disturbing images of their own ugliness.

All those transfigurations done by the Pool had been done by her own mind already.

…

She clutched her forehead and thought about the whole situation she had landed herself into. She started muttering to herself.

“My parents have been turned into cats… screaming ones...Couldn’t they have been quieter? I would honestly prefer if they stayed in cat form for a few days… or weeks.” 

Her muttering was rudely interrupted by something slimy travelling down her neck.

She clutched her forehead again as she remembered the reasons for that happening. 

She glanced upward at the cat hanging upside down from a beam, it’s green eyes glowing in the dark, stone-walled room.

The upside down cat spat prophecies as hairballs. 

And the activation word was ‘cats’.

She picked at the ball of slime gingerly and dug through it for the slip of paper inside.

 _Why would the cats_ not _scream?_

 _If you had_ any _sense you would do the same._

_PS: Catnip doesn't work on me. Thought you would remember._

She read the note aloud, and immediately got beaned on the cheek by another hairball. 

_Hey I get lonely here okay?_

_You come to me here only when you want prophecies._

Yes please, and I want another one. I’m coming here only if you deactivate the powers of the Pool of Carnissus. She raised the corner of her lip disdainfully, and said the whole activation phrase.

“Cats above and beyond their nine lives,

Tell me, tell me what do you see with those eyes?” 

She repeated that spiel in an uninterested monotone. 

The cat’s tail tightened, almost as if thinking of the kind of wordplay she would employ while spitting this hairball. Sometimes it was a limerick, other times it was iambic pentameter, while a few rare ones had the cryptographers of Nothingabad scratching their heads for days.

This time Rajni was better prepared. She extended her hands outward to catch the flying hairball. Then immediately shrank away in disgust as a drop of slime dripped off her finger.

_Bo geyond hou yave bever een_

_Sisspering whoul mountains_

_The glahyang nou yeed sou teek_

_Get a long, strong rump jope_

_Don’t ask me the reasons_

_I’m too old for this shit._

…

Meanwhile, Aman noticed Kartik entering the room. It was rather early in the morning, yet he wondered where he returned from. Aman noticed a drop of sweat falling off his sideburn. He was fixated upon that drop of sweat when Kartik decided to turn around.

Aman got caught. Kartik’s excessively smug expression wasn’t about to let him go.

Then at that moment, the ground lurched and the floor spun a little.

Aman’s eyes widened, and Kartik’s face turned a little green. He immediately sat down on a chair. Aman gave an imperceptible sigh of relief. _Saved._

He had completely forgotten the day. It was chicken-leg day.

_Should have explained that to Kartik._

Chicken-leg days weren’t named because the whole of Nothingabad had suddenly decided to feast on chicken legs on a specified day of the week, but because the small castle stood on a pair of chicken legs.

Which turned this way and that to prevent anyone from finding the front door during the royal family’s ‘rest day’ of the week.

It frustrated the diplomats beyond measure to see a huge pair of chicken legs turning the whole castle to the side, whenever they approached. 

This time it was Rajni who had trouble finding the front door.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you call a sugar high without sugar? A high!  
> Or what I was on while writing this. This story will NOT let go of me.  
> Pride parades probably have a different meaning in Nothingabad. Even I don't know what. Wrote it for the sake of the rhyme. Guess a meaning in the comments (the crazier the better) haha.
> 
> Rajni megaphone-singing her way out of negative-doubt-whispers is self-esteem goals...
> 
> Linefi = Feline (you know why)  
> Carnissus = Narcissus (read the original myth please, its 1.30 am and I am too tired to explain why I messed around with the spelling like that. It's a rewarding google search, I promise)  
> The house on chicken legs is something I lifted off a Russian folktale figure called Baba Yaga. She is an old woman (described variably as 'good' or 'evil', depending upon the story). She lives in a hut on chicken legs and travels the sky on a mortar-pestle boat. 
> 
> I'm pretty sure I confused people more than offering any sort of explanation. Don't worry, things are barely getting started.  
> Shoutout to Ashley2011 for constant encouragement (and bilingual puns!), Monamoni and Tinevisce for believing in this pile of craziness!  
> Have a good day/night!  
> Kudos and comments make my day!  
> -Advaita

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically all of my Lewis Carroll-Edward Lear-Sukumar Ray fantasies brought to life. I was writing another fic, (which is taking a lot out of me) so this one is my insanity/sanity anchor. It's going to be a wild, whimsy ride, so buckle up!
> 
> Honestly I was a little apprehensive of touching the edges of the nonsense-literature landscape, had it not been for the famdom support... You people are the best :)


End file.
